Jam-packed.

I’ll go ahead and get the most boring updates out of the way: the house is coming along. The bottom floor is framed up and I can see where all the rooms are, which is exciting. I’d post pictures but the energy requirements involved with hooking my phone up to the computer are far greater than my current levels can provide for right now. Another day, another time, perhaps.

Our future neighbors got cows, so that means Caleb’s got the farm fever. What kind of man wants to go ahead and buy chickens for land that we don’t even live on yet? My husband–although I think I’ve talked him out of it for the time being with–SURPRISE!–sheer logic, which is unusual for me. I figure what with ball season, sending a kid off to college, selling a house, finishing the construction process, moving, new schools, and a new baby coming, that maybe–just maybe–we’d have our hands full for the next 6 months. So chickens (and sheep, but that’s still up in the air) are on hold for now.

College. Cheyenne’s school of choice is West Virginia University. The science department there is extreme and the scholarship they offered is at least worthy of heavy consideration. The place is only a hundred million miles away, so I’m sure that I’ll handle this transition well when the time comes. And by “well”, I mean that I’ll cry uncontrollably 24/7 for 6 months straight and text her constantly with the understanding that if she doesn’t text me back, I’m liable to drive halfway across the country just to make sure she hasn’t been kidnapped and sold into slavery.

I’m not serious.

Yes I am.

Also–The FAFSA: the bane of my existence. Here’s a funny thing about being a young parent: they still have Caleb’s and my pin numbers and information from when we took out our student loans. The paperwork involved with higher education is insane. I just want my daughter to be a rocket scientist. Is that too much to ask?

The small kids are gearing up to play ball. I can’t believe it’s that time already. Caleb is helping to coach Merrick’s t-ball team, and Mia is starting out her second year of kid-pitch on a brand new team with brand new girls who have always seemed a bit hardcore to me. She’s excited, but the switch is bittersweet. The only reason she took a position with this new team in the tenth hour was because we thought the old team was going to be scattered to the wind. Fast forward to the eleventh hour, when it turns out that her old team found someone to coach, and were in fact staying together…bummer.

Even though I kind of wanted her to, she would not go back on her commitment to the new team. To be honest, I was probably more upset than she was about not playing with all her best friends; but Mia made me proud by having a decent attitude and saying, “Well. I’ll learn a lot this year. And I will still cheer for my friends even though we’re on different teams. And we’ll still be best friends.” Team sports: teaching kids awesome crap to teach to their parents since…I don’t know when.

The pregnancy–it’s going. I’ve had so many nightmares about bleeding and losing babies and stillbirths and other things that I don’t even dare think about twice. My anxiety is out of hand…when I’m sleeping. I wake up breathless and exhausted and running to the bathroom just to check and make sure everything is okay, which it always is. I’m off the progesterone as of last week and the difference is dramatic. Pregnancy is manageable, not miserable. I feel okay 95% of the time and I can eat without gagging. I mustered up the strength to clean my bathroom.

Seriously–so far, so good. I had a few minor issues in the first weeks but after about 55 ultrasounds (which, fun!–are not covered by insurance), the baby is determined to be in good, normal shape. And we are due on September 14th.

Next week I have my first appointment with my high risk doctor, the same one I met with last year–the same one who delivered that awful news. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least nervous. It’s hard not to wig out and just let God do His thing. I know that this situation is beyond human control and my anxiety accomplishes nothing. Calmness has never been one of my strong points…ever. My mind can accept the fact that God has His hands all over this–it’s just my lungs and my heart rate that are staging a revolution. Maybe I should stay away from spicy cheese grits.